


i study your smiles in the dark and they feel like home

by brittadit



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, also some brief SHARK TORNADOES, and fluff just everywhere gosh im sorry, some brief mentions of isaac's past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 08:45:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brittadit/pseuds/brittadit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott forces Isaac to watch Sharknado for probably the tenth time that week and Isaac just kind of studies him from his end of the couch. He takes in that goofy smile illuminated in the dark by the dumbest movie of all time and feels that reminder of home tight in his chest. It's not the same as Sunday mornings, it's different in the best possible way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i study your smiles in the dark and they feel like home

There was a time, when his dad still cracked smiles that weren't twisted and actually signified happiness, a time before his mom died, and Camden died, that Isaac would live for Sunday mornings. Everyone would get up by eight and congregate in the kitchen and eat breakfast together – fattening bacon and special-occasion orange juice and toast that was just a little too crispy around the edges – and talk about their weeks. Isaac's parents would have the day off work and Camden would only work Saturdays and this was way before the graveyard became Isaac's silent companion, and it was kind of perfect. His dad would spend hours in the garden – clearing out the small pool they had and mowing the lawn, and his mom would enlist her son's help with watering the plants and trimming her favorite apple tree. Isaac would lie in the sun for what felt like an eternity, listening to old-time-y music float from an old record player and through to his very core, covered in the sunlight and the smell of freshly-cut grass. It felt like _happiness_ and like _home_ but now... now it felt like the most distant memory, buried six-feet under flashes of blunt and bloody nails scratching the inside of a tomb, beneath a collection of harsh words and sneers and purple bruises. 

He never thought he'd get that kind of Sunday morning feeling back ever again. Until Scott.

Because he may have never seen Scott garden but he's seen the way he fully, 100% cares for his “pack”, and the light that flickers across those absurdly large eyes when he's been assured they're all safe. Scott doesn't listen to old-time-y records but he sure as hell listens to Isaac, as though every word that spills from his mouth is tinged with the utmost importance, and he looks at him – _really_ looks at him – as though it'd be criminal to not give him his absolute and undivided attention. He isn't his big brother and he isn't his father and he isn't his mother, he's just Scott, and that's all Isaac could ever need him to be. 

There are nights when the memories push through Isaac's defenses and he'll cower in bed, trying to hide but he's drowning, and Scott will burst through the door and hold him until his heart is beating as normal as a teen wolf's resting heart-rate could beat. He seems to always know when Isaac wants to talk, can always find the words to coax him out of his shell, and he knows exactly where to trail kisses in the time they spend without words.

One night, a murky Friday's 3am, while Scott decides to force him to watch _Sharknado_ for probably the tenth time that week, Isaac just kind of studies him from his end of the couch. He takes in that goofy smile illuminated in the dark by the dumbest movie of all time and feels that reminder of home tight in his chest. It's not the same as Sunday mornings, it's different in the best possible way.

“Are you paying attention?” Scott asks urgently, tapping Isaac's knee and tearing his eyes away for a split second. “This is the best part.”

Isaac just smiles and ducks against Scott's shoulder because, yeah, it kind of is.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short, dumb, rushy thing which was gonna contain 150% more Sharknado but I restrained myself (you're welcome). Also, first posted fic!!!  
> you can find me at robbyxbrees.tumblr.com


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